


Doctor Love

by fabricdragon



Series: Sex Pollen, Love Potions, etc. Shuffle [2]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: 007 Fest 2019, BAMF Q (James Bond), Bondage, Canon-Typical Violence, Extremely Dubious Consent, M/M, Sex Pollen, TeamBondVillain, fan fiction, team Bond Villain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-06-27 15:46:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19794010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabricdragon/pseuds/fabricdragon
Summary: The villainous "Doctor Love" has been using  some kind of chemical concoction to enslave women,  and MI6 (among others) needs the antidote, so they send Bond- to break things and kill people- and Q- to get the information out of their computers.  After all, they can't send a woman...What happens when James Bond gets dosed?TW: although Bond and Q both "consent" i tagged this as EXTREMELY dubious consent owing to the drugs and consequences. there is discussion of sexual violence and rape not shown on screen as well.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Only_1_Truth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Only_1_Truth/gifts), [RussianWitch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RussianWitch/gifts), [KatHarkness_Katara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatHarkness_Katara/gifts), [Stormraven24](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stormraven24/gifts), [roseforthethorns](https://archiveofourown.org/users/roseforthethorns/gifts), [AnnaVronsky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaVronsky/gifts), [FantasyTLOU](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FantasyTLOU/gifts), [JuJuBee (Marcy09)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marcy09/gifts), [ellat257](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellat257/gifts), [wandmaker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wandmaker/gifts), [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts), [cherrygoldlove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherrygoldlove/gifts).



“Sex pollen?! Really?! That’s utterly ridiculous!”

Q remembered all too clearly his response to being told what the man was doing… and then having to explain fan fiction tropes to a table full of MI6 officers. He’d honestly been wondering if it had been an elaborate prank until he saw how uncomfortable the rest of the people were- M, the new M, especially- as he explained.

“We’ve… ah… we need to send a computer expert to retrieve the chemical data and treatment protocols…” M tried for a businesslike tone but was clearly appalled by the situation.

“If someone has ACTUALLY invented a sex pollen that works, the information needs to be nuked from orbit, not retrieved!” Q had protested, and meant it: it was grotesque, an utter violation of free will…

At which point they had explained that the villain- who called himself Dr. Love, because of course he did- had used this sex pollen/love potion/monstrosity on several highly placed women, and the one they had managed to retrieve had killed herself rather than ‘betray’ him: they needed to find an antidote.

Bond had protested Q being anywhere near the field, but there were two people who knew the trope backwards and forwards and knew the computers well enough to get through most security; himself and Danielle- R - and OBVIOUSLY they couldn't send a woman!

Which just made the current circumstances all the more ironic as they threw Bond back into the cell with him.

“Are you alright?” Q asked him quietly. he didn't look well but he had no obvious signs of torture, still there were a lot of things they could do to a man that didn't leave many marks.

“No.” he answered and then gritted his teeth and shook slightly: he was starting to sweat, as well..

Doctor Love- or ‘that bastard’ as Q had taken to calling him in his head- walked up to the cell door with two of his victims hanging on his arms trying to get his attention. “Mister Bond- can I call you James?- has just been given the newest version of my serum… the first test on a man, actually!” the bastard actually rubbed his hands together- “The last version was a failure on men, although it works beautifully on women-”

Bond started to snarl something at him but Q interrupted, “You threw him back in the cell, so what do you expect out of this?”

“Now you see?! YOU have a scientific mind set… pity, really, but I can't test it with one of my guards. I expect he’ll probably rape and murder you- the last round of tests with the prior serum that’s what happened- but if we are VERY lucky contact with your semen will act on him the way my serum acts on women.” he turned to the Russian assassin hanging on his arm desperately, “wouldn't that be lovely?”

“Yes, of course, Doctor…” she murmured, trying for a seductive tone, “Why don't we discuss it back in your rooms.”

“Bitch.” the other woman- she had been an American chemist- hissed, “You don't understand his work; I do!”

“Girls… don't fight…” He chuckled back at the cell, “I’ll be by to check in in the morning: don’t worry i have the cameras set to record: science you know!”

Q had been ignoring Bond’s increased breathing rate in favor of getting all the data he could from the lunatic, but once he walked away Q turned back to Bond. “They DOSED you with that?!”

“Yes.” Bond was taking off his shirt, but continued to give a report through gritted teeth, “First symptoms are sweating, weakness, and feverish feeling- got those- followed by skin sensitivity- that just started hitting, plus i’m too damned hot- and then followed by a rapidly increasing aggression and libido, followed by complete incoherence.”

Q helped him up onto the bed- he was realizing now why the cell had a full sized bed in it. “They told you that?”

“He was monologuing.”

“Of course he was: what was that about semen and… ah… the prior tests?”

“The prior serum... when tested on men, the men eventually killed the people they were with, or themselves - but he admitted they had only thrown them in with women. The…” Bond cut off and shook violently as sweat practically poured off of him.

“He said semen contact was important?” Q forced his mind to treat this as a serious problem and not a poorly written porn fantasy.

“It's… what…” Bond stopped talking and just curled up with gritted teeth for a few moments before uncurling again. In a nearly normal voice he said, “You’re going to have to kill me.”

“What?”

“I can FEEL my control eroding: you’ll have one chance to try to kill me before i lose enough control that my training and instincts will take over…” Bond looked wrung out, “of course… I could get weak enough that I can’t fight back.”

“Bond… I know this is ludicrous but try to think…”

“Ludicrous is not the word I would have chosen.” Bond snarled.

“Contact with semen is what it takes on the women; the prior tests put dosed men in with women?”

“Yes?” he looked up suddenly, those calculating blue eyes looking Q over in analysis, “You… think… it might need actual semen?”

“Blood product and hormones, possibly: the women locked in a cell wouldn't have had access to a laboratory or blood drawing equipment, so nothing… errr….” Q trailed off because Bond was staring at him intently.

“Skin contact wouldn't be enough- not absorbed fast enough.” 

Q’s mouth went dry, “you… ah… can’t be suggesting…”

“Aggression levels went up in all of the male test subjects- bastard showed me a video.” Bond dug his hands into the bed, “If it works like it did with the previous serum, Q, he’s not joking: I’ll hurt you badly trying to relieve my symptoms, probably kill you, and then kill myself directly or indirectly.” 

“You think… semen contact… might…” Q was feeling light headed.

Bond’s hand- and yes much hotter than even his usual body heat- “I’m sorry Q, but if we are going to get out of here we have to try it…” he looked determined- although the hand flexing was a bit worrisome- “I know you arent used to sex as part of a mission, but you seriously need to kill me quickly or try to…” Bond trailed off this time, his eyes looking just past Q and then pulled Q in to a brutally thorough kiss while ripping what was left of his clothing off.

Q was left gasping, and even in this horrible situation couldn't help but note that Bond was an absolutely wonderful kisser… “Bloody HELL Bond!”

“The last guard left… i thought they looked fairly homophobic during his ‘science rant’.” Bond panted a bit, as though he’d been running. “Incidentally skin contact and… kissing you helped a little.”

Q felt like his hand reached out on its own accord and started running over Bond’s chest. “How much help?” he asked, trying desperately to keep his voice clinical.

Bond leaned into it, “not nearly enough, and… honestly the urge to throw you onto the bed and do something to get rid of my… stress… is becoming stronger.”

Q broke eye contact, but couldn't bring himself to take his hand off of Bond’s chest. “Well, i… ah… suppose we … ah...if we can get you stabilized we might have a chance to break out, right? So…” Q tried for a bit of humor, but was fairly certain he failed. “I suppose its trite, but try to be gentle?”

Bond shook his head, “I won’t be able to… and it won't get ME contact with enough of YOUR semen…to stabilize this... have you ever had sex with a man?” 

Q’s brain split neatly in two, with part of his mind stuttering madly and spinning in place and the other half retreating behind technical details. “Oh… oh of course, i’d have to… ah… be the penetrating partner.” he looked dubiously at Bond, “For everything i have ever seen of your seduction skills on the comm links i have never seen you so much as flirt with a man, are… will you be ABLE to let me? Ah… oh, yes, in any case I’m gay… and not a virgin- not even- so…”

Bond momentarily seemed distracted off of controlling his breathing and muttered, “... had no idea…” before taking a few more gasping breaths and continuing with “best get started with the attempt or… honestly i won't be able to… in fact i think using this sheet to tie my hands to this damn bed might be a good idea.”

The less analytical part of Q’s mind went completely off line. “Oh.”

Bond casually tore the sheet into strips and Q belatedly realized that YES, they were going to have to restrain Bond quickly if he was going to become more aggressive and… _shit_.

Q helped tie Bond, not to the bed but in a restraint harness- not nearly as comfortable as proper rigging rope but it would have to do. _Thank God i took that rigging class._

“Done this before, have you?” Bond was clearly aiming for nonchalant- he failed.

“Yes.” Q answered, and then, “they didn't have the courtesy to leave us much lubrication i’m afraid.

“Might be better at that,” Bond arched backwards and pulled on the restraints- they held. “First of all, I feel like a fight, a bloody fight, would be delightful about now… and secondly… the more direct blood contact the better odds of this working, right?”

Q winced and pushed Bond back down on the bed, “We can’t really… if this was any other circumstances I would refuse because you are compromised, but… do you have any hard limits?”

“Not on the job, no…”

Q got the rest of his clothes off and tried to be clinical about this: the bastard had actually invented sex pollen of a sort and if this didn't work they were very likely to both die- Bond from the drug and Q from Bond.

But Bond was clearly going through a distasteful- tortuous even- circumstance with Q as his only option… hell he hadnt even known Q was gay…

…

And Q was about to have sex- be forced to have sex, damn near rape, really- the man he’d had a hopeless crush on since he first laid eyes on him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> desperate times call for desperate measures

Q tried to be careful and… well prepare the man for this but Bond snapped, “I won’t BREAK damn it, and we don’t have time!”

“Bond…” Q took a deep breath and tried again to get his attention, “BOND!”

“... yes?” Bond spat out through gritted teeth.

“Need i remind you, as you said, that i am NOT used to sex as a mission? If you keep yelling at me...frankly if you expect me to get it up at all…”

Bond looked, well a bit apologetic,took several gasping breaths, and started tensing and relaxing muscles, which helped Q’s libido quite a bit actually.

“Yes, by all means keep doing THAT”

“...what? Doing what?”

Q waved at him and went back to trying to pretend this was one of his innumerable sex fantasies- for all that they had never involved Bond tied to a bed… _maybe they should… damn._

Bond got a quirked look and then flashed that dangerous smile, “have a liking for fitness videos?”

Q licked his lips, “i may, possibly, have watched the Double Os work out with more than professional interest, yes.”

Bond suddenly wrapped his legs around Q and pulled him in. “Pity my arms are tied or we could be practicing my pushups… Seriously though, we don't have time to waste.”

Q swallowed hard and closed his eyes, pulling up images of Bond: Bond taking off his tie and jacket in a way that had always made Q’s mouth go dry; Bond walking in and handing over bits of equipment with the most ridiculous excuses…

_That was it…_ Q started imagining himself taking Bond back into the office after he’d destroyed one more piece of equipment, Bond offering to make it up to him, Q demanding- in a way he never could or would in real life- that Bond bend over his desk if he meant it…

Q did his best to make the desperate noises and angry snarls Bond was making fit into his fantasy long enough to finish… it was difficult.

Q reluctantly opened his eyes. Bond was soaked in sweat and looked quite desperate, but… perhaps a bit improved. “Please tell me that helped.” Q whispered, _and i didn't go through raping you for nothing._

“A...bit...i don’t feel … quite as violent…” Bond was struggling to breathe evenly. “Would you feel better or worse… about this if i had… my hands free? I … THINK… I can manage…”

“I would feel MUCH better about this, actually.” Q had him roll over and started working on the sweat soaked knots. “We didn’t even discuss safewords,” Q muttered to himself as he finally got what should have been a quick release knot undone.

Bond pulled himself free, got his hands on the bed, and arched his back in a way that made Q long for a camera.

“Safeword?” Bond chuckled weakly, “Not dying… that's a good safeword... right now i think we need to do that again.”

“Sad to say, 007, that i am not a professional in that department and not eighteen anymore.” Q ran his hands down the sweaty feverish back and cursed the circumstances.

Bond rolled over and looked up at him, “what, you still have spots… of course you’re eighteen.” the teasing tone was returning to his voice although he still sounded pained and his voice rougher than usual.

“Well, youth and vigor seem to have fled for a few minutes, how about putting that age and experience to use?” Q tried for the banter that they enjoyed on the communication links in the rare downtime on a mission- it felt a bit awkward with the man naked under him.

Bond got that look in his eye that ALWAYS spelled trouble and growled “well if you INSIST, Quartermaster.”

Before Q could ask, Bond had flipped them both on the bed- Q landing on the mattress with enough force to knock the breath out of him- and then Bond slid down his body and… 

Q arched desperately up into the man’s mouth.

_ It's just… practicality… he’s desperate, drugged, and… mouth contact may help some in any case… _ Q found himself whining desperately as he tried to keep his hands from grabbing at the man’s hair. He’d known Bond was good at sex, a bit infamous for it around MI6, but he’d never seduced a man- at least not when Q had heard or seen anything. 

“GOD! Where did you learn-” Q cut off as Bond did something on the edge of ‘too much’ with his mouth.

Bond pulled away with a lewd wet sound.

“Don’t STOP!” Q gasped and started to sit up- then he looked back at Bond and saw the pained look and the sweat and remembered: this wasn't about his interests… “Sorry, Bond, you’re… just very good at that.” Q guided the man back to his hands and knees on the bed.

“Glad to hear it,” Bond’s voice was rough from … well oral sex among other things; then with a hint of his usual tone he added, “And I think you could call me James, given everything…”

“James,” Q smiled sadly as he pushed back into the man. He’d fantasized about this, dreamed about what it would be like… but this was more of a monkey’s paw version of a wish- twisted and wrong.

Bond arched back into him with a groan, “More… I… see why they’re always hanging off of hm… touch helps…”

Q leaned over his back and ran his hands down him “i wish i could spend more time like this, but…” he moved, trying to lose himself in the sensation: . 

“Could you talk to me, James? Are you coherent enough to do that? I always loved your voice.”

“... I thought you sounded too posh..” James answered, “at first… then i got to … miss your voice… when someone else…” he groaned and dug his hands into the bed hard, tearing the remains of the sheets.

Q- reminded of how strong Bond was, and how the drug was likely to affect him if this didn't succeed- got back to work with more vigor.

It was… surprising to Q to realize how much he’d always held back with a lover- making certain he didn't hurt them, checking in on their pleasure: He could hardly damage Bond- compact wall of muscle that he was- and Bond needed him to NOT hold back, not delay, and the critical matter was Q having an orgasm, not Bond… it was strangely liberating, and terrifying at the same time.

When he finally came he collapsed across Bond and reached around him… no sooner had he touched him than Bond was coming, groaning and shivering in his hand.

“Bon- James…?”

Bond collapsed into the bed and then slowly rolled over, pulling Q in close.

“Are.. are you alright?”

“Better.” James growled and then started kissing him again- Q’s body tried valiantly to respond with interest despite himself.

When Q was let up for air he stammered out, “I thought I'd been kissed before; I was wrong, obviously.”

Bond smiled in a predatory fashion that should have been terrifying, and then leaned in to kiss him again, licking into his mouth oddly after every kiss. “You.. taste like heaven.”

Q tried to say something but then James was running his hands down Q’s back- just firm enough to make him melt but not to hurt him. “Care to let me return some of the favor? I can probably be gentle with you…now.”

“Please…”  _ Oh God please… _

Q began to lose all track of reality: this was what he pictured, if he dared to let himself fantasize… Bond was possessive, and so very strong, but careful… and he knew how to use that body like the finely trained tool it was…

When Q found himself somehow, miraculously, hard again Bond kept Q pushed firmly into the bed and lowered himself down, pinning Q beneath him, pulling Q into him… kissing him breathless until he came again.

Q was laying under him running his hands over James- still warm but no longer feverishly hot- when James spoke quietly into his ear: “If no one was watching, as he said, just recording… we should arrange things to look as if we are dead before the next shift…”

Q blinked several times-  _ Damn, I’d… nearly managed to forget… _ “Yes, yes of course… but wouldn't there be rather a lot of blood?”

“Not necessarily, and there is already a small amount on the sheets… if your neck was broken, or you were beaten… I was thinking that since the bed is already a wreck we leave you in the bed- covered somewhat- and I lie on the floor partly under the bed…”

“I… will leave mission matters that don’t involve a computer to you, James- Bond.”

“I like hearing you call me James.” Bond’s voice was uncharacteristically soft, and he gently stroked Q’s face briefly before arranging the remains of the bed and the sheets around them both. 

Q lay sprawled face down across the bed in a position that might have been comfortable if the pillow wasn't over his head and he could move. Bond was laying on the floor as though he’d slid off the bed and collapsed… and Q could only lie there and hope they survived to find an antidote...and curse the fact that his memory was going to torture him with ‘what could have been’ for the rest of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story referenced "The Monkey's Paw" is one in which you get your wish granted, but in a way that makes it horrible and twisted. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Monkey%27s_Paw


	3. Chapter 3

Q forced himself to stay still while the bastard stood outside the cell and snarled and ranted about his damned drugs and the results. He barely breathed as the guards unlocked the cells and came in to retrieve the bodies for study and dissection.

While they were lifting him off the bed- when one of the guards called out, “Doctor? I think he might still be breathing!”- Bond exploded into action from the floor.

Q rolled off the stretcher to the side, grabbing the guard’s gun as he did, and started shooting at anything that had clothes. A naked Bond was busy killing people with terrifying efficiency and in short order they were all dead- or not moving at least- and he had Doctor Love down on the floor with a knee in his back.

Q pulled his glasses out from the pillow he’d put them in for safekeeping and put them on: when the room, and the results, came into focus he momentarily wished he hadn’t..

“It worked!” The bastard was gurgling happily despite Bond having him by the collar with his arm wrenched behind his back, “I knew I could make it work on men!”

Bond snarled,“Yes, well, now you can make it NOT work, Doctor- where’s the antidote?”

“Antidote? Why the hell would I want an antidote!”

Q rather acidly said, “so you could hand off a victim to someone else? I would think you would at least comprehend that.”

He stopped struggling. “Huh… I never thought of that…? That would be useful…”

Q groaned, “we will have to develop an antidote from his research? He’s mad and i would bet his research is too…”  _ God this was a disaster, it could take years to engineer a cure, and in the meantime the women… wait _ , “Didn't that chemist say she understood his work? James?”

“She did.” Bond glanced at him and looked back at the Doctor in a measuring fashion.

The bastard laughed, “None of my women will betray me, and if you even try to keep me away from them…”

Q stared down at the monster, thinking about what would happen when he was taken into custody. “Scientific question, Doctor: what happens if you give a woman another dose of that… that drug.”

“What?”

“What if they got another dose of the drug and someone else… had sex with them.”  _ or got a hormone cocktail and some blood- it might work. _

“I…” he blinked and started muttering- completely distracted by a new line of ‘research’- even while Bond held him down on the floor. Eventually he said, “it would very likely kill them, but if it didn't kill them the effect should transfer to the second man- or at least partially transfer…”

“How long can your women last away from you- say if one was sedated for transport.”

“Under sedation? Oh, that adds days…”

Q looked at Bond and made a decision. “James,” Q said softly, “Step back.”

Bond did it without hesitation and Q shot the man in the back of the head- the sound was appallingly loud in the confined space. Q wanted to throw up, but he pushed the reactions aside and promised himself a nervous breakdown later with tea.

Bond’s mouth closed with a snap, “why?”

“He’s useless to us, dangerous to everyone else, knows how to replicate his work, and we could never trust him to actually research a cure in any event.” Q wished his voice wasn't shaking- he knew he’d made the right decision.

Bond wrapped a warm arm around him and Q permitted himself the comfort of burying his face into James for a moment. He could almost pretend…

“Q… we need to get rid of the rest of the guards and … I don't think i killed the woman he had with him- just concussed her badly.” Bond kept his arms wrapped around him and Q wanted to soak up his body heat like a cat in the sun, but he was right- the mission took priority.

“You’ll have to let go of me…” Q reluctantly said when Bond didn't move.

“Ah…” Bond took a deep breath and let go, “Sorry, it feels much better in skin contact.”

Q winced at the reminder that Bond’s feelings were… were the result of THAT. “I need to get to the computers.” Q nodded. 

They got to work. Once they got to the computers Q directed Bond- both of them dressed in guard's uniforms now- around the base: Bond picked off the guards and killed or contained the handful of male technicians working with the man while Q drained the research notes and every bit of data.

Q made the mistake of looking at some of the notes while he worked: the… consequences of giving the former serum to men, and then throwing them into a cell either alone or with a woman, were horrifying- Bond had understated the results.

…

By the time they were picked up by the US Navy- the American’s hospital ship had been the closest response- the women were sedated, and Q had the only remaining samples of the serum and the research: he refused to let the samples out of his sight even during decontamination. Bond backed him up efficiently with a blue laser glare capable of cowing any Navy personnel. 

Their Intelligence liaison from the CIA got the two of them into an emergency debrief with the medical staff. Q knew it was weakness on his part to keep leaning into Bond, to keep touching him and allowing Bond to touch him, but he justified it for now. Bond gave them a detailed list of ‘withdrawal symptoms’ to watch out for and Q told them the tests they would need run- hormone levels especially: the ‘Doctor’ might have invented the serum- although Q was beginning to doubt that- but he hadn't bothered with critical tests..

After the medical personnel went out the CIA liaison looked down at his notes and frowned. “We were told there were more women; were they killed in the take down?”

“I didn't find any other women,” Bond answered, “Q told me not to bother to look anymore.”

“They didn't die in the mission, Agent Hunt, they died before we got there.” Q swallowed hard, remembering the files he’d briefly looked over, and would need to study in detail when he got back. “He .. he tested the results of separation on some of them, and some he simply had ...killed and disposed of when they were no longer useful or interesting: the women you took on board are the only survivors.”

Bond’s arm tightened around Q’s shoulders, but his voice was calm and professional. “They are on countdown: we need to find a treatment for them or …”

“Or?” Agent Hunt frowned, “I don’t like the sound of that.”

“Because I assume you are a decent human being,” Q forced himself to look the man in the eyes, “There was no antidote- no treatment: he never wanted one. The only option to keep them alive if we can't come up with one soon, will be to re-dose them and try to… addict them to some other man- buy enough time to find the cure.”

Bond added, “That may kill them of course- re dosing them,” he hesitated, “it might be kinder if it did.”

To his credit Mister Hunt appeared to understand the implications and looked ill. “Good God…”

Q asked quietly, “how long until the airstrike on the base?”

“It should be beginning any minute.” Agent Hunt stood up and then turned off the recording device, “I…” he looked back and forth between the two of them, “I assume the reports of deadly biologic agents that have to be incinerated were… somewhat exaggerated?”

Q nodded tiredly, “I don't want anyone able to find… anything. It is a temptation to destroy the information I already retrieved and to hell with the research…”

“You might want to- not that I ever said that.” Agent Hunt said quietly.

Bond agreed, “I think it might be for the best, Q: I have no illusions that people won’t use it if they have it.”

“My concerns exactly, but… the only hope of an antidote…”

“Well officially i don't know what you retrieved, other than the victims,” Agent Hunt nodded, “so you have time to consider- i know my own government desperately wants the information, as does yours…”

Q hesitated and then admitted, “The American chemist claimed to understand his work…” Bond’s hand had slowly made its way from Q’s shoulder to his neck, and was now resting there casually with his thumb on Q’s pulse- it was comforting, even if Q knew Bond was only seeking skin contact. “I don’t know if she actually did.”

Agent Hunt raised an eyebrow and murmured, “that could be a problem.”

He and Bond exchanged meaningful looks that Q wanted to not understand, “Yes, it could be,” Bond said easily, “perhaps she might be the best first test of whether redosing works? To someone who understands exactly how dangerous the information is- assuming she does understand his work and wasn’t just trying to curry favor.”

“God…” Q closed his eyes and tried not to be ill.

Agent Hunt had a grimly determined look that Q recognized from Double Ohs. “I’ll show you to your rooms, gentlemen; we can discuss the rest later.”

“Ah… no.” Bond shook his head, “we will need to share a room: Given the information in the Quartermaster’s possession I will be on security detail until we return to MI6.”

“Oh, of course; if you gentlemen will follow me? None of the rooms are exactly luxurious, but the larger of the two rooms we had set aside should be tolerable for now.”

“It’s better than a mad scientist’s cell, i expect.” Q muttered, “I’m afraid neither of us got much rest.”

“I was a field agent for quite a while: yes, I understand.” Agent Hunt showed them to a room and went off to undoubtedly contact his higher ups with the current nightmare.

Bond checked the room thoroughly- habit, Q supposed- and reported back. “Luxury itself, we have a private shower.”

“That’s a luxury?”

“This is a Naval vessel, Q, not a cruise ship- yes it is. You’ve not been on a Navy ship, have you?”

“I have been on one large ship in my entire life: yes, a cruise ship.”

“Well the showers aren’t meant to take two, but fresh water is at a bit of a premium,” Bond held out a hand, “care to conserve water, Quartermaster? And...given that you can call me James, calling you Q seems a bit formal.”

Q couldn't help but chuckle, “that was a completely cheesy line, James, and … I actually prefer Q to my given name, but if you insist I can tell-.”

“Of course it was a cheesy line,” Bond protested, “Given your appalling cardigans I rather assumed you liked a bit of tackiness… and Q it is then.”

Q was inordinately relieved that Bond seemed to be going back to more usual banter and allowed that he did, in fact, desperately want a shower. “I expect there’s no point in pretending we haven't seen each other rather more intimately than just a shower.”

“You haven't seen the shower,” Bond snorted, “we’ll probably be closer together than we were in the bed!”

He wasn't kidding.

It was a bit erotic, a bit cramped, and a bit awkward all at once, and Bond got them both washed, rinsed, and out of the shower before Q would normally have finished picking out a soap.

“Let me guess,” Q said once he was back in the bedroom, “after five minutes the shower head turns into a monster and eats you?”

“What?” then Bond chuckled ruefully, “Ah, Navy habits a bit, and… to be honest I'm feeling a bit edgy.”

Q considered how long it had been… “oh… ah… do you think skin contact will be enough? I’m quite exhausted…”

Bond nodded to the bed, “Never turn down a chance to sleep, that's practically a commandment. I have no idea, but if it isn't i can wake you up.”

Bond pulled him in close and slid them both under the sheet. “It’s funny you smelling like Navy soap and disinfectants: you normally smell of a bit of sandalwood and… something citrusy.”

“Probably my preferred shampoo.” Q turned in his arms and stretched until as much skin as possible was in contact. “You always smelled nice.”

“I … wasn't aware you noticed?”

“You change your cologne a lot for missions but you always favor the same type of scent… it suits you.”

“Hmm… that's a bad habit, then, but i’m glad you like it.” Bond kissed him and then spoke quietly into his ear, “What else did you notice?”

“You run warm… and you have a casual jacket you wear around 6 when you aren't on a mission that always smells just a bit of the gun range,” Q felt his eyes closing and leaned into Bond’s shoulder. “Warm.”

“Do you like warm?”

“Oh yes…”

“Good.”

“... You were feverish before, now you’re just… warm.”

“Mmm-Hmm.”

Q gave up on opening his eyes. “...always taking off… your suit jacket and tie… so bloody hot….”

“Well, yes, I overheat a bit…”

“Oh… that too.”

“...what?”

“...Q?”

And then a hand was gently carding through his hair...


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What a way to wake up... and then back to work
> 
> (Note: we are in a major heat wave here in the mid atlantic states USA: Please bear with all of us as we try to hide in air conditioning and still write)

Q was having one of the best dreams ever: Bond was in bed with him and his hand was warm and doing exactly the right things…  _ wait… _ Q moved his hand and felt solid muscle…  _ Bond, drugs, serum, oh… _ “Is it morning?”

“Technically.” Bond’s voice was the smoky Scots burr that Q only heard the full effect of when he was just waking up on a mission.

“Have I mentioned I love your voice?” Q blurted out before he could stop himself.

Bond’s hand stopped moving and then slowly resumed, “I... think I remember you saying something about that? I admit I was a bit out of my head at the time.”

"...yeah, you were."  _ Still are. _ "How are you feeling?"

His hand was stroking over Q in an unhurried manner. "I feel fairly agitated...the symptoms are very similar to withdrawal or... certain types of allergic reaction." Bond reported it casually, the same way he might say 'I've been shot' while still chasing someone on a mission…

"Bond...i know your reporting style: how bad?"

Bond looked away and his hand stilled, "its fairly bad." He admitted.

_ And of course he doesn't want this- and doesn't want me _ . Q took a deep breath, "is...is there a way you'd prefer? Can i...make this any easier on you?"

"I was about to ask _you_ that. " Bond chuckled.

"This is about you."

"Doesn't do me much good if you don't enjoy it." Bond pointed out-ever the ruthless pragmatist. After a pause he asked: "Do you like tying people up? You seemed to be good at it. "

"I...yes, its something i enjoy-on both sides actually- but i don't...it's not the only thing i enjoy. As to good at it; I took a class on rigging so I could learn how to do it safely: good thing I had."

"Yes, " Bond said very solemnly, "I...would have hurt you."

Q reached out and put a hand on Bond's cheek-he leaned into it and Q felt another stab of guilt- "I know, i...saw some of the recordings:it's not your fault." Q forced a smile, "well...are you up to experimenting or shall we stick to the basics."

"Experimenting sounds lovely but maybe not...right now: It is getting a bit uncomfortable."

Q knew that when a Double Oh admitted to that, any sane man would be begging for morphine and he paled.

“It’s not THAT bad, Q… at least I have someone I can trust to have my back,” He smirked, “In every sense.”

Q really didn't want to laugh, but Bond could always get under his defenses. “Well, maybe you should put your back into it this time?”

“More like you putting yourself into my back,” Bond grinned, “unless you prefer a frontal approach?”

Q soon found out that Bond could continue with HORRIBLE puns, and snarky comments long after Q- who viewed himself as somewhat expert on the subject of snark- had run out of sex related innuendo. Eventually Q had to beg him to stop: “Enough! Uncle! I yield! If you want me to stop laughing long enough to… actually…”

Bond stopped making jokes and- apparently remembering Q’s interest in exercise and muscle movement- started flexing the muscles in his back: Q regained interest very quickly. “You are one hell of a piece of physical engineering, Bond..”

Bond stopped and turned himself over, pulling Q down against his chest suddenly, “Only the Quartermaster would refer to a Double Oh as ‘physical engineering’.” and then he kissed him thoroughly enough that Q forgot he needed to breathe.

Somewhere through the haze of lust, infatuation, and sensation Q remembered... “Damn it!”

“...not what most people say during sex…” Bond sounded a bit out of breath.

“Lube… ah… it was an emergency before and I REALLY don't want to aggravate-”

Bond smirked and held up a small tube, “picked it up from medical.”

Q couldn’t help but snicker, “You mean you steal things from other departments? Should I be jealous?” and then rather quickly applied enough lubrication to make things much more comfortable. Bond definitely put his back into it.

“I don’t...Ah…” Bond shuddered briefly and then relaxed quite a bit. “I don't… steal things… from Q branch: I just…”

“Don't return them?” Q thrust a bit harder at the memory of his fantasy of bending Bond over a desk for that. “I… had thought… about that… in the cells…”

“Mmm… did you now?” Bond was quiet for a few more strokes and then, “Thought about... taking the late fees out of my hide?”

“Possibly bending you over my desk…” Q admitted. 

After that they weren’t talking.

Lying spent over Bond’s back Q hesitated and then, “I suppose I had never… well imagined taking the… err…”

“Initiative?”

Q was grateful that Bond was facing away and couldn't see the flush on Q’s face, “more like i never thought of being the dominant party… with you anyway.”

“You obviously take the dominant role with others, and ropes, apparently.”

“Oh Lord…” Q sighed, “I like Shibari: I like BEING tied up sometimes, and I wanted to know how to do it so I could tie up some other people who like it.“

Bond turned over suddenly, “You like it both ways?” he raised an eyebrow and somehow made what was already sex talk sound even filthier.

Q swatted him ineffectually, “I should have known you’d be a brat if you ever subbed… yes, i switch- sometimes subbing is a nice change after…”

“After all the pressure and responsibility,” Bond nodded, “I’ve met other people in high power positions who sub. I could never try it- other than as a cover- no one i trusted enough.”

Q blinked at him several times and tried to convince himself he’d heard that, “Were you interested?”

Bond honestly looked thoughtful, “I can’t be sure: by the time i knew enough to consider IF i was interested… well… ropes, handcuffs, whips and so on? I’ve had too many bad experiences with them to think of people having ‘fun’ with it, if you understand? Add that to the fact that trust is at a premium…” he shrugged, “Might be nice to try it, just to see… since i know you’re cleared.”

That… sounded genuine and not an answer he would get from one of the besotted women trying to give him what he wanted to hear. “I… can see how you would have trouble finding a safe partner to experiment with… if… if you honestly want to, I would be flattered to help.”

“I had to learn a few things about… topping, I think is the term?” Q nodded and Bond continued, “For work… but again, that's work.”

“Well, the skills I've had a taste of recently certainly do explain your … ah... Results.”

Bond grinned, “I seem to recall a bit of enthusiasm about getting a blow job…”

Q remembered that all too well, “ah, well… yes, ah..”

“I seriously had no idea you were gay.”

“What? How do you MISS it?”

Bond shrugged, “I… actually I thought you and Moneypenny were an item.”

Q choked. Eventually Bond got him a cup of water and made him sit up and take some sips.

“Me? And EVE?!”

“I take it that’s a no? Eve is a beautiful woman…”

“Eve is a MANIAC! She’s also my girlfriend, but in the sense that we go out, she gets me drunk - because apparently the woman can drink anyone under the table- and i end up sobbing on her shoulder about my hopeless crushes….”  _ you, mostly. _

Bond chuckled, “I knew you two went out a lot, but I was thinking you were…. ‘Going out’ not…”

Q shook his head, “I’m the token sassy gay boy in the girl gang on girls’ night out at MI6”

Bond glanced at the shower, “well… how about if we clean up, come back, and I can actually FINISH that blow job?”

Q made completely undignified noises before he managed “sounds like an excellent plan!” and then wondered if that was the drug making him want to please Q, the drug withdrawal symptoms making him anxious about keeping on Q’s good side, or a simple interest in watching Q become a gibbering wreck.

Bond nodded, “Good research too- how much would that take the edge off of withdrawal when it's not… that bad.”

_ Research _ , Q told himself,  _ Another point is research: Bond is an agent; exploring the limits of his tolerance and ability is second nature.  _ Q sighed,  _ And no matter how wonderful this feels its… its not his idea: I just hope we can… I hope… _ Q pushed his fantasies firmly away and limited himself to hoping they could work together after this.

Q suffered through the shower with many complaints.

“It's not THAT bad!” Bond laughed.

“Says you! You think my hair stands up normally? A few days of this and I’ll look like a deranged hedgehog.” Q grumped.

Bond reached out and dug his fingers into Q’s hair, “I’m sure it will recover…” and then he stopped, grinned, and tugged gently…

“Damn it!” Q closed his eyes and bit his lip. _ of course he would notice. _

“Like your hair pulled?”

“Pulled, played with, brushed… why do you think i keep it long?”

“I thought you did it because it looked good on you, but…” Bond pulled him in- with one hand twisted in his hair- and kissed him.

Q cursed Double Oh observation skills- and Bond’s kissing skills in specific-, even as he melted and let Bond walk them back to the bed. Bond could apparently navigate and kiss at the same time, which was good because Q certainly couldn't. They had just hit the bed when there was a decisive knock at the door.

“Buggering FUCK!” Q snarled and then glanced apologetically at Bond, “...sorry.”

Bond just smirked, “I’ll take that as flattery.” he grabbed a towel and answered the door.

Q heard someone speaking indistinctly, then Bond saying that yes, he could, and more indistinct, and then Bond closed the door. 

“They said they will deliver food if you want to stay in the room- must have been briefed on Quartermaster handling- tea, food delivery and a computer connection, right?”

“I assume they want you to help with… uh… interrogation sounds wrong, but it is.”

Bond pulled on the medical scrubs they had been given after arrival- their own clothes were rather a lost cause, “Yes; we’re the only two that had first hand dealings with any of them, or the serum effects, so…”

Q nodded slowly, “I’ll stay here and try to go through the documentation- terrible as it is- and see if I can find anything useful; don’t push yourself.”

“You HAVE met me, haven't you?”

“Point,” Q sighed, “how about this: if you voluntarily take a break BEFORE one of the doctors says you don’t look good, or you fall over, or you start snarling at people in withdrawal… I will forget to ask you what you did with the missing equipment from the Waverly case.”

“What Waverly case?” Bond said with a completely convincing innocent look.

Q put his head in his hands and muttered “bratty subs, how did I not see it? How? I always thought you would be a dom if you went that way…”

Bond snickered as he opened the door, but paused and looked back sincerely- or at least he looked sincere. “I’ll try to be back before… before things get bad: make sure you actually eat and drink? You don't have any minions to remind you.”

Q nodded and got to work on the computer, and started digging through the horrific information on Doctor Love’s research…

No faster way to lose any interest in sex- ever.


End file.
